Escort Duty
by Jantallian
Summary: Slim and Jess always have each other's backs – right? So what would it take to make Jess act otherwise and how would Slim react if he did?
1. Chapter 1

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 **ESCORT DUTY**

Jantallian

 _A fox, a goose and a bag of beans …_ an ancient puzzle

 **1**

Slim Sherman could tower. Right now he was towering over Jess Harper. His face was dark with worry and disappointment.

"You mean you left them?"

"Yeah." The younger man sounded as if he couldn't care less.

Slim did, though. "But I gave my word!"

"Y' didn't give mine!"

That was true enough - but not enough. It took them both right back to where it had all started

...

 **# # # # #**

Actually it all started some time before they got involved or rather became involved through no wish of their own. This circumstance had its origin in a curious, but seemingly harmless, conversation between two of their old friends.

"They ain't gonna like it," Jonesy asserted in melancholy tones.

"They aren't being asked to like it," Mort Cory pointed out, "just to get on and do it."

They were sitting outside the Sheriff's Office in the middle of a hot day, gazing moodily along the street in the direction of Cheyenne. A half-empty jug of luke-warm lemonade stood on the sidewalk between them.

Jonesy took a swig from his glass and continued to point out the obvious: "They're gonna be hot an' thirsty an' worn-out an' it goes without sayin' Jess'll be starvin'. You ain't gonna get any action out o' them, 'cept takin' a cold bath an' eatin' a good meal an' gettin' a couple o' beers down their throats."

"They can do without," Mort said firmly. "They'll survive."

"Yeah, but that kind o' survival usually involves a wrecked stage or a lost horse or somethin'."

"Look, whose side are you on?" Mort was becoming increasingly exasperated with the reiteration of his own forebodings.

"Mine. After all, I gotta live with them, ain't I?"

"Slim'll be fine."

"An' Jess'll be ornerier than a cougar in a cage. You know what he's like if y' try to push him where he don't wanna go!"

"He'll do it if Slim makes him." Mort was clutching at straws here, as the words 'make' and 'Jess Harper' did not readily combine and he had a feeling Slim would probably just try to take on the task by himself.

"You really sure it's them you need?" Jonesy was reading his mind again.

"Who else can I trust?" Mort suddenly heaved upright in his rocker, his eyes fixed on the bend in the main street. Two horsemen rode into sight and pulled in to the Livery Stables.

"Horses'll be done in too!" Whose side _was_ Jonesy on!

"Then they can get fresh ones!" Mort had not been in a good temper to start with and the conversation had done nothing to improve it. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself to override any and all opposition to his orders.

Presently two unmistakable figures emerged from the stables and made their way down the street towards the watchers. The taller of the two strode along, planting his boots firmly on the earth, with the rock-solid confidence of one who is thoroughly secure in his own integrity. A half-pace behind him, the gunman stalked, alert, poised, light-footed - every sinew and muscle coordinated in an unmistakable signal that said 'don't mess with me!'

"Like watchin' a cougar stalk a stallion, ain't it?" Jonesy grinned.

Mort nodded absently. Stallions were amenable to discipline, but no-one ever put a bridle on a wild cat.

 **# # # # #**

"Y' want us to do what?" The snarl of disbelief and total lack of co-operation in Jess's voice was unmistakable. "You ain't even paid us for what we just done!"

"Yeah? Well, if you want to be paid for anything, get this job done first!" It was not the most tactful approach, but Mort knew he had more or less zero chance of selling the idea convincingly to Jess anyway.

Even Slim, equable though his temperament was, did not show any great enthusiasm for Mort's latest deployment of their forces. Now he said: "Let's get this straight. You want us to ride to somewhere south of Elk Mountain and bring Max Storner back here so that he can turn state evidence."

"Storner and the two women he wants safeguarded," Mort amended.

"Y' want us to protect a double-dealing villain an' a couple of tarts?" Jess sounded totally disgusted. He was scowling formidably and tension was visibly radiating from him.

"I want you to make sure that a man who can give invaluable information to the law gets here alive!" Mort snapped. "And if he wants his women protected as part of the deal, so be it."

"But why us?" Slim asked, quite reasonably. "We've just done an escort duty for you."

"Yeah, an' got ambushed an' shot at an' chased half way to Cheyenne!" Jess amplified.

"Oh dear!" Mort said sarcastically. "I'm sure you're in need of considerable patching up."

"Yeah!" Jess ignored the sarcasm; he was, after all, sporting a grubby looking bandage round his left arm. He glowered at Mort and pointed out, "I had in mind a bath an' a meal an' a nice ev'ning with the girls in the saloon –" He paused and then continued meaningfully: "An' maybe a bit of a rough-house, just to keep the idle law officers o' this town occupied!"

"You even start on that programme and you'll be spending the evening in here in a cell!" Mort stated coldly.

Slim grabbed Jess by his uninjured arm and physically restrained him from his immediate reaction to this threat. He knew Mort Cory was a reasonable man and he could not believe that the sheriff would be putting this kind of pressure on them for no reason. "Care to tell us what this is really about, Mort?"

"It's about escorting a key witness safely so that he can help us break up some of the biggest gangs in the territory."

"And the women?"

"He won't come without them."

Slim sighed. "I don't see why it is so urgent that we can't at least get cleaned up before we start."

"Believe me, it's urgent!" Mort looked intently at his young friend, willing him to co-operate and not ask all the rest of the questions. "Would I ask you otherwise?"

"Ask?" Jess exploded.

"Shut up, Jess!" Slim said briefly. "Alright, Mort. I give you my word I'll do my best. Tell me where to go. "

"Y' can go t' hell, as far as I'm concerned!" Jess told him coldly. "An' don't think I'm comin' after you to get y' outta whatever mess you end up in!"

There was a little pause. "I won't need you coming after," Slim told him. "Never met a mess yet where you weren't in it right up to the neck alongside me."


	2. Chapter 2

_Escort Duty_

Jantallian

 **2**

The trail north was not arduous but boring. It was not enlivened by Jess riding half a length behind Slim, radiating truculent unwillingness, combined with the symptoms of lack of coffee and acute starvation. He kept up a more or less continuous growling moan about everything from the stupidity of the job to the evil reputation of Storner, throwing in for good measure some defamatory observations about Mort and a caustic analysis of Slim's bone-headed judgement. The fact that he was probably spoiling for the opportunity to get even in a fight was not encouraging either. Slim had said "Shut up, Jess!" once in the Sheriff's Office; he declined to be baited into doing so again, but it was a near thing.

The horses obviously considered the trail boring too. They had left Alamo and Traveller at the relay station for a well-earned rest, as there was no reason to ride them another twelve miles to Laramie and, as they thought at the time, twelve miles back again, just to report to Mort. Slim had picked one of their lazier spare mounts, a black gelding who he figured could do with some vigorous exercise and with being encouraged to show at least a modicum of energy for once. This meant that he had a hard ride, as the horse was quite prepared to slop along at the slowest pace possible, if Slim did not keep constantly urging him on. On a long journey, when they were trying to make the best speed they could, it was both tiring and irritating and had him wishing he had chosen a more willing mount. Jess, on the other hand, was riding his second string, the flea-bitten grey called Smoke. This was a lively horse with a volatile temper and a mischievous sense of humour which matched its owner's. Smoke saw no reason to idle about on the trail and was not averse to bumping the horse in front and occasionally taking a bite out of its tail by way of encouragement. That was pretty irritating too.

They were forced to camp overnight, having set out some time after noon. The late start meant that Mort had virtually run them out of town, leaving them no time to gather their wits or any provisions. For once they were not carrying supplies as, when they started, they had had no idea they would be away from home longer than a night in Laramie. Fortunately both of them rode with bedrolls behind the saddle as a matter of course. Saddlebags too, but these were woefully devoid of anything useful. Slim fished around and retrieved some oats for the horses, neither of whom really deserved this bounty. He also found a handful of coffee beans, rather stale, which he figured were best preserved for the morning, when Jess would be even more difficult to deal with. Jess contributed a few strips of beef jerky and a single wizened apple. He produced the latter when they had spent some time chewing.

"Takes y' right back t' the Garden of Eden," he observed morosely as he cut the apple in half with his boot knife. "An' no prizes for guessin' who winds up as the fall guy!"

"In that case, the only role left for you is the serpent!" Slim cracked back with undeniable, if unflattering, logic.

"Huh!" Jess devoured his half of the apple in a few swift bites and applied himself to finding a moderately comfortable place on the available ground. "You standin' first watch?"

"Are you giving me any option?" Slim heaved a sigh of resignation. After all, Jess might be a bit more amenable if he got some sleep first. On the other hand, he might not. All Slim could hope was that the task was going to be as simple as it sounded. On the other hand, it might not.

 **# # # # #**

"You mean you ain't told them none of this?" Jonesy's tone was dumbfounded, to say the least.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't need to. Slim gave his word."

"Jess didn't."

"Yeah, that's the point."

Jonesy's wrinkled brow wrinkled even further in perplexity. "What point?"

"I trust Slim to carry out the task but …"

"But …?

"Slim is as honest as you can get. He doesn't lie and he has a very speaking face. Right now, he knows all he needs to know to do what he has to."

"And you don't trust Jess?"

"Oh, yes - I trust him to behave exactly as he did right there in the office."

"You mean he gave his word too."

"The hell he did!"

"Guess he must have been too mad!"

"Yeah. And if you met Jess, in the mood he's in today, what would you think?"

"I'd be surprised anyone deputised him," Jonesy admitted honestly.

"You've got it. Jess is the weak link."

"Weak link!" Jonesy exploded indignantly. "You ever known Jess when he wasn't right behind Slim all the way?"

Mort grinned, remembering one or two incidents when Jess's backing up had taken some unusual forms. Then he said softly, "Yeah, we know that, but nobody in Storner's party does!"

 **# # # # #**

The arrival of two extremely hungry and bedraggled deputies at the Storner ranch took place in the middle of an unkindly, but seasonal, storm. It had the merit of being dramatic, but, since the aim was the low-key removal of Storner and his entourage, such theatrical accompaniments as thunder and lightning were not appreciated by any of the participants.

Max Storner had been seated by the window for the best part of three days already, mentally biting his nails and hoping his escort would get to him before anyone else did. He hoped Cory had sent someone reliable. He hoped Cory had taken full note of the information he had send along with his request. He hoped no-one had been present when Cory opened the letter. He hoped no-one had seen him writing it. He was so engrossed in his hopes that he didn't notice the riders crossing his yard.

The first thing he saw of the arrival of his rescuers was an irritable-looking grey horse biting a chunk out of its companion, whose rider could be seen visibly restraining an urge to take a swipe at the equally irritable-looking rider of the grey. He looked again. He clenched his teeth. It couldn't be … but it was. What the hell was he going to do now?

Storner's housekeeper, responding to a knocking at the door which sounded as if someone was bent on competing with the thunder, found herself confronted with two dripping wet young men, neither of whom had had the forethought to pack a rain-repellent garment. Water was running off their hats, which they had not yet removed, water had re-dyed their jackets an indeterminate grey, water was pretty well squelching out of their boots – and the smell of wet leather was far from pleasant. She raised a stern hand and pointed. "Back door!"

"Now look, lady!" The smaller of the two made what would have been a spirited attempt to sweep her aside, had his companion not grabbed him by the arm and issued the injunction: "Shut up, Jess!"

Concord Brown's eyes narrowed as she regarded the two men further, by the illumination of a convenient flash of lightning. She had a lifetime's experience of lawless men and could recognise the signs. In the dark man she saw the ruthless and reckless arrogance which would drive through danger and opposition without a second thought. His casual alertness and self-confidence, together with the way he wore his gun as if it were part of his skin - all this told her she was facing a professional. It was clear too that, despite the insistence of the blonde man, he was not going to back down easily.

The blonde was a totally different proposition. The word 'upright' might have been invented just to fit him. He was calm, confident and probably incorruptible. He addressed her politely and apologetically. "We're here on urgent business, ma'am. We need to see Mr Storner immediately. Please tell him we're from Laramie."

Her eyes narrowed. Her hand lifted again. "Young man, we have polished wood floors in this house. Back door!"

The blonde gave up. He knew steel when he saw and heard it, especially accompanied by a roll of thunder. He glared at his companion and said between his teeth, "Right now, Jess!" He didn't actually shove the other man, but it was a near thing. Constance wondered what would happen if he did. She ran over in her mind the various men by the name of Jess who had previously crossed her path. This one scowled formidably and drawled, "I'm takin' the horses to the barn an' seein' to them. You get on with it!" The accent was markedly Texan. She eliminated several candidates immediately.

The blonde one looked after him as he towed the two reluctant horses across to the barn, the grey still making surly snaps at the black in a manner reminiscent of its owner. The taller man's face was an open book, especially to one with the experience of Concord Brown; his mixture of exasperation and affection was revealing. People do not often develop affection for hired guns and her professional opinion was that, in this case, it was seriously misplaced. With a grim smile, she shut the door in the young man's face and left him to find the back door on his own.

"Concord!" The sound of a bellow as well as a summoning bell meant Storner was going to raise hell.

Concord Brown smoothed down her skirts, checked her jet black hair in the mirror and rubbed a little colour into her cheeks. After all, they were two very good-looking young men in whose close company she would be spending some time. Despite having a daughter of seventeen, she herself was not much older than the blonde deputy and had kept her looks and her figure. She glided along the passage to the front parlour where her employer waited impatiently.

"The men from Laramie have arrived," she told him.

"Who the hell else were we expecting?" Nervousness made him snap at her. After all, his worst fear had arrived along with them. He just hoped Concord was not reading this from his demeanour with her usual accuracy. It was a very small hope.

"When they are in a fit state, I'll bring them through to you," she replied in her usual calm manner.

"Damn their state! I want to see them now!" He struggled to control his apprehensiveness, his angry tone underlined by a rumble from the storm, which fortunately seemed to be moving away rapidly. Storner hoped he could do the same.

"Dripping wet and probably starving and certainly having spent an uncomfortable night in the open? I think they might be more co-operative if you waited." Her tone was the epitome of reason.

"Good morning, Mr. Storner."

The tall blonde filled the doorway, most satisfactorily from any woman's point of view. He had shed hat, jacket and boots but even in bare feet he was impressive. As he spoke, the front door crashed open and the other man stalked in and fetched up behind him. The tall man turned and gave his companion a look nicely combining disappointment, embarrassment and a desire to throttle him. The dark man glared right back, but tossed his hat neatly onto the hall stand and shrugged out of his jacket, which followed suit. "That better?" he enquired in deceptively soft tones.

"Boots!" Concord told him in no uncertain manner.

"You gonna get down an' pull 'em off for me?" was the insolent response.

"Right now, Jess!" The blonde man did not even bother to look over his shoulder. He just stood in the doorway like a solid marble statue until the sound of two boots being flung across the hallway had finished reverberating in their ears. Just when everyone had decided the confrontation was over, the owner of the boots growled: "While they're off, y' can give 'em a polish!"

"Come in here!" Storner ordered hastily. It sure as hell wasn't doing his hopes any good to have this particular member of his escort antagonised even further. "Get some food," he ordered Concord, "and tell the girl to be ready to leave as soon as we've eaten."

Concord gave him a brusque nod and stalked towards the door. The dark man was lounging against the doorpost and showed no sign of moving to let her pass. She halted and looked him coldly in the eyes. Astoundingly bright blue eyes narrowed and locked with hers. Then, just for a second, she could have sworn his right eyelid dipped in the merest wink as he straightened up and stepped back into the corridor. When she swept by, a low growl followed her: "It's a long way from Dodge."

That settled it. Just their luck! She remembered Dodge City. She remembered this particular young man. She remembered a certain gun-fight. And an outcome which made this man a very, very interesting prospect, not least because, five years on, he was still alive. She swept on down to the kitchen, where she found her daughter, Unity, waiting for her.

"Well?"

"Well indeed! I think our escort will be very … serviceable."

The women exchanged smiles and began to prepare the food. It was a few minutes before they were interrupted.


	3. Chapter 3

_Escort Duty_

Jantallian

 **3**

"Tarnation saddle it, Mort! Y'takin' a hellava risk!" Jonesy looked appalled. "How's Jess gonna know what y' just told me?"

"He already does."

"Y'mean y' told him before they left? Y' never had time."

"No, I didn't need to tell him."

"Why not?" Jonesy demanded, worry written all over his face.

"Because he was in Dodge City, five years ago, when the Storner gang had a shoot-out with Jack Cade and his brothers. Jess took down two of the Cades in a straight draw and then picked off one more of the brothers hidden on the roof. He was drawing a bead on Storner himself. So Storner should be properly grateful for the escort I've sent him."

"Y'reckon?" Jonesy looked dubious. "Don't recall thankfulness ever bein' a quality I've heard mentioned in the same breath as Maximillian Storner."

 **# # # # #**

Max Storner tried to appear grateful as his escorts entered the room. The tall blonde looked reassuring enough as he strode across, his hand outstretched. "I'm Slim Sherman, Mr. Storner. Mort Cory sent me –"

"Us!" an all-too-familiar voice snarled from behind him.

Sherman ignored the interruption. "I'm here to see that you arrive safely back in Laramie."

"T'see that y' get there without too many bullet holes in y'!" amended the voice from the doorway.

Storner saw a brief expression, akin to the determination of one preparing for battle, cross Sherman's otherwise pleasant face. He stood quite still, yet somehow radiating his expectation that the other man would behave in a civilised manner. Storner doubted it. All Sherman said quietly was: "This is my fellow deputy, Jess Harper."

The dark man strolled across the room and looked down at Storner as he sat braced in his chair by the window. A feral grin twitched his lips and he said softly, "You on the look-out for somethin', Storner?"

"A reliable escort," Storner retorted shortly, trying to keep his voice steady. Five years on. Five years which had honed this man from a reckless youngster with a talent for gun-play to a lean and merciless fighting machine. He had survived those five years. And it didn't argue that his skill and accuracy had got any the less. And now Storner had no hold over him.

"Mr. Sherman's middle name is reliability," he was told sardonically. "Y' can trust him completely."

 _More than I can you!_ Storner thought grimly. There was no kid chained up in the barn to keep Harper in order now. No-one he cared enough about to enable Storner to force his co-operation. But he _had_ saved Storner's life that day, when he had no reason to do so – there was no doubt about it. Probably in the hope he would live to be hanged. Well, that remained to be seen, but Storner was looking forward less and less to this dangerous journey in the company of only one trustworthy bodyguard.

"I want to start immediately!" he told them. No sense in prolonging things here, where he knew he was in danger. At least on the trail he would have only one thing to fear.

Jess Harper scowled. "We ain't goin' anywhere without gettin' fed!"

The reliable Mr. Sherman looked as though he had heard this before, because he appeared to suppress a sigh and a very slight smile touched his lips. He said firmly: "We can take food with us."

"Yeah? Then I'll hurry those women up preparin' it!" Harper jerked open the door and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

 **# # # # #**

A pot of something savoury was stewing, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma guaranteed to seduce two starving men. Stirring it, Unity raise an eyebrow enquiringly to her mother and gestured with the spoon to indicate the stew. A smile briefly lifted Concord's lips. Neither woman spoke, but they were as much in harmony and of one mind as their names suggested. Not only that, but they were extraordinarily alike in appearance: black-haired and creamy- skinned, slender and supple, like the silk they were dressed in. It was easy to see beauty in the fine-cut features of each face and the subtle brilliance of two pairs of black eyes.

Unity took another saucepan and carefully divided the stew between the two vessels. Concord went to the big dresser, moved a couple of jars on one of the shelves and took out a small tin from behind them. She brought it over to the stove and opened it carefully.

"Ain't no need for that!" The dark gunman was leaning against the door-jamb, watching them with those cool, bright eyes. It seemed to be his favourite pose. Before either of them could react he was across the kitchen and had removed the tin from Concord's hands. "No sense in wastin' good …" – he bent a little over the tin and sniffed – " … _seasonin_ ' … on Sherman."

"Why not?" Concord found she had automatically taken the tin, which he had closed, and that she was already returning it to its hiding place, exactly as if he had ordered her to do so. When she turned round, he had slipped an arm round Unity's waist and removed the spoon from her hand in one smooth motion.

"Because Mr. Sherman is a very fussy eater."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." He pulled Unity away from the stove and into a closer embrace, which she did nothing to escape. Concord could hardly blame her for this, but she wanted a better explanation for why their preparations had been interrupted in this abrupt fashion. She folded her arms and waited.

"He only eats vegetables an' fruit," the gunman informed them. "Uncooked."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Belongs to a _really_ strict religious group. Call themselves the People of Genesis." Seeing the baffled and slightly disbelieving expression on both faces, he quoted: " 'Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat'.Genesis chapter one, verse twenty nine."

"Really!" Concord looked totally affronted, as any good cook might.

"Y're over-usin' that word!" The gunman let go of Unity and grabbed Concord by both arms in no uncertain manner. It was a rather less of a pleasurable experience than she had been hoping for. He snarled in her face: "What you're _really_ goin' to do right now is pack plenty of fruit and anythin' we can eat raw and be quick about it!"

Concord was not easily intimidated. "And does he eat bread?"

"Yeah, but no butter."

Unity hastened back to the stove and removed the stew, little knowing what she was doing to Jess Harper's digestive system and how much will power it was costing him to forgo a good meal. The two women set about packing provisions under the steely supervision of a very observant escort.

When they were ready, he issued one final directive: "Don't talk about this. Don't even mention it in his hearin' or you'll surely find out what the wrath of God is like when Slim Sherman's bringin' it down! He may look mild and polite, but, believe me, when it comes to his beliefs, he's a holy terror. Just pretend this is what you've eaten every day of your lives – or you may not live many more days!" And with that, he herded them back to the drawing room.

 **# # # # #**

A small pile of luggage had accumulated in the hall. The gunman favoured it with a kick as he passed by. There was a faint clink from one of the saddlebags. They were scarcely in through the door before it was obvious things were moving fast.

"Jess, can you harness up the buggy and get the horses ready?"

"I can. Is that what y're tellin' me to do?"

Slim took a firm hold on his temper and refrained from either thumping his partner or giving him a good piece of his mind. He'd known Jess wild – stubborn – incandescent - uncooperative – black as thunder – dead drunk more than once - and not infrequently bloody minded, but he had never known him to sulk. With Jess, it was all one explosion or a point blank refusal to do anything. Slim had never known him behave like this before. It was as if he had suddenly become a totally different person. As if contact with Storner had called into being someone Slim did not know, someone who had ridden into his home with a past and an agenda which Slim knew nothing about, someone who … someone he did not know if he could trust.

He gave himself a vigorous mental shake and said, "Yeah. But I didn't think you'd actually need telling."

Jess shrugged. "You want me to load up as well?"

"What do you think?" Slim snapped back, the extent of his patience having been severely stretched over the last few hours.

"I think y'might be aimin' to make sure you get all of the bounty."

"Bounty?" Slim stared at him. Neither of them had ever hunted a man down for money.

"You think I don't know what Mr. Storner –" Jess regarded the gang leader with a lifted eyebrow, "is aimin' to take with him." He lunged forward and grabbed Storner by the collar. "How about openin' those saddlebags, Storner?"

Storner braced himself against the chair and resisted the urge to head-butt this very persistent young man. It would do no good in the end. He said in placating tones, "Sure, we can open them. I pulled in every scrap of cash I have. I don't aim to make the banks a present of my money."

"Your money?" Jess sneered. "If you ever had a dollar you didn't steal, I'm the president of the USA!"

"So – it's going back to justice with me – back to Laramie and to the court there."

"Not all of it!" Jess snarled. "I reckon you own me five years back pay for that job in Dodge City. An' my rates have gone up since then!"

Max Storner turned pale. Slim's brow furrowed in consternation. Concord smiled a secret smile. Unity smiled in pleasurable anticipation.

Storner muttered: "You drive a hard bargain, Harper!"

"You should've thought about that in the first place!" Jess said coldly.

"Alright!" Storner assured him hastily. "You'll get your payment. I give you my word."

"You may recall I got plenty o' reason to doubt your word," Jess reminded him just as coldly. "But right now, I'll take it, provided the money rides with Mr. Sherman. I'm sure we can both rely on him to look after it."

 _What's with the 'Mr. Sherman'?_ Slim asked himself in bewilderment. _When did Jess ever address him like that?_ Then, with conscientious single-mindedness and determination, he focused on the task in hand. "The buggy, Jess!"

"I heard y'!" Jess slouched out of the room, showing absolutely no enthusiasm for getting the escort party under way. But that had been characteristic of his behaviour ever since they had left Laramie. Slim sighed once more. Jess did not sulk. But he was doing an extremely good imitation!


	4. Chapter 4

_Escort Duty_

Jantallian

 **4**

"I don't care if y' do think Storner'll be grateful," Jonesy said in tones of profound disapproval, "it's a crazy plan!" He was struggling hard to believe what Mort was expecting Slim and Jess – not even working together – to pull off.

Mort nodded. "That's the idea. I'm hoping it's so crazy that no one will realise what's going on or believe that anyone can pull it off."

"You mean outlaws ain't all that bright?"

This time Mort shook his head. "These are some of the most successful gangs in the territory, all coordinated through Storner's leadership. And word's out that Owen Greerly has made Dodge City too hot to hold him and he's heading north to carve a new patch for himself. There's a lot of clever and powerful and ruthless people out there, who aren't going to let Storner wreck a nice, profitable business. They'll stop at nothing to prevent him getting here and giving witness."

"Our boys can beat 'em!" Jonesy growled loyally. "Ain't no-one Slim can't out-think!"

"Or Jess can't run rings round when he puts his mind to it," Mort replied. "That's why only the two of them would do for this particular escort duty."

 **# # # # #**

"Get in, Storner!" The gunman shoved the once-powerful gang leader in the direction of the buggy.

"I'm riding!"

"You're doin' no such thing! You make a target a mile wide on a horse. Or did y' forget we're aimin' to get y' back without too many bullet holes in y'?" The cold laugh was merciless.

Concord Brown frowned and said equally coldly, "You take no thought for us if anyone targets the buggy?"

"You wanted to come. You take your chance," she was told.

"Mr. Storner wants us to come. And to arrive alive."

"Well, unless you wanna walk, get in, lady! The girl can come up with me, if y're that worried."

Concord exchanged a swift look with Unity. The girl wanted to, of course – who wouldn't? But it would not serve their plans for her to get involved too soon with this volatile and forceful young man. They both got into the buggy.

It was not long before more misgivings set in. Instead of heading for Laramie, they were going north and west, further up into the mountains. The Storner party had not seen the exchange of looks which had also taken place between their two escorts. Slim was heaving yet another a sigh of relief that Jess had not given the plan away: in his current unpredictable mood, you could not tell what he was going to do or say next. But the first part of the removal was going smoothly.

Or so he thought.

They were riding in front of the buggy, so that the following horses and wheels masked their hoof-prints somewhat. Fortunately Storner's hideout was situated in rocky country, where tracks would be more difficult to follow, despite the recent rain-storm. Nonetheless, they spent some time obscuring their trail and doing their best to conceal the number in the party.

"We'd've done better t' bring some spare horses an' make it look like there was more of us," Jess grumbled under his breath as he rode back and forth over a revealing stretch of sand, churning it up as much as he could.

"We'll be doing that soon," Slim reminded him.

"Only if we follow Mort's crazy plan," Jess pointed out. "An' that's exactly what we ain't doin', in case you didn't notice."

"Yes, we are," Slim told him firmly. "We're just coming at the next place from a different angle."

"D'you reckon?" Jess snapped, driving Smoke forward in a rush and urging the horses pulling the buggy into a gallop.

"Jess! What the heck -!" Slim might just as well have saved his breath. They were all rushing down the mountainside at break-neck speed in totally the wrong direction. Hampered as he was by the reluctant black horse, Slim was hard put to keep up. He could just keep in touch with the others by the cloud of dust they were raising and he hoped fervently that no-one else was doing the same. But he was determined to catch up and he had every intention of hauling Jess back into line with the original plan and probably giving him the rough side of his tongue at the same time. Even Slim's patience had limits and Jess was pushing them pretty hard.

By the time he caught up, however, it was too late. The track led to a dilapidated cabin with a couple of rough corrals and a barn which must have been holding together by sheer will power. The buggy was continuing its descent of the mountain at a similar speed, with two loose animals running in front of it. But Storner and his party were not in it. Instead they were mounted on some scruffy and slightly wild-looking horses, and each holding a led horse into the bargain. Jess had two in tow himself and, without more ado, thrust the lead-reins of another couple into Slim's hands.

"C'm on, let's get movin' before we have company!" He turned Smoke back towards the ramshackle cabin and yelled, "Thanks, Joe – I'll see y' get the wagon back pronto."

A large and equally scruffy man emerged from the doorway. He was counting a bundle of notes. Storner looked furious. The stranger grinned: "At that price, y' kin keep it, Jess! Just let them nags loose when y've finished with 'em."

"What wagon?" Slim started to ask, but the motley bunch of horses was already breaking away at a surprised gallop, spurred on by yelling and arm-waving from Jess. They surged back up a narrow and extremely steep path behind the cabin.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" Slim demanded breathlessly as he finally managed to pull alongside Jess - no mean feat, since Smoke was doing his best to bite the hell out of the two led horses with disruptive effects.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks," Slim retorted between gritted teeth, "as if you have gone completely mad."

Jess gave him a thoroughly irritated scowl. "It's mad tryin' to protect Storner without a posse, so now it looks like we've joined one."

Slim had to admit this was true, but it didn't stop him protesting: "The whole point was to bring him in quietly, without making a fuss!"

"It'll get quiet enough soon enough," Jess told him. "The next time we stop."

"Stop where? And what about the arrangements Mort made?"

"Joe sent his boy to carry those out. Now we have two diversions, not one."

"What makes you think we need two?" Slim demanded; the disquiet he had been keeping in check was growing by the minute.

"What makes y' think we're gonna get away without someone tryin' to snatch him? Or put a bullet in him, more to the point?"

"If you'd kept to the plan and done it quietly, no-one would ever know!"

Jess just shrugged, as if expecting Slim to appreciate that his actions were entirely logical and indisputably effective. In a sense this was true, because there was no way they could go back and find the buggy and retrace their steps to the original route. Slim found he was grinding his teeth again.

"So what now?" he demanded, as they jogged along in another cloud of dust. _Really, how Jess expected this to escape detection was beyond him!_

"A little swim to lay the dust," Jess replied, obviously reading his mind.

Shortly after this they began splashing up a wide watercourse, going even further into the mountains. It wasn't actually necessary to swim, as the water was fairly shallow in most places, but it was enough to disguise which way they had gone. And the dust cloud disappeared.

A couple of miles further on, they pulled out of the stream on the far bank. Everyone was damp, hungry and irritable, but somehow looking at Jess's expression kept all their comments in check. "Yeah, it's a nice place for a picnic," he sneered, reading their minds again, "but not out here, unless y' ain't bothered about gettin' shot at!"

Storner looked visibly upset at this further reminder of his precarious position and Unity gave a little squeal of fright.

"Shut up!" Jess snarled at her. "You wanna let them know exactly where we are?" He glared at Concord as well, because she was about to object to his tone, and added sharply: "Don't kid me y've been with this villain so long an' never been shot at, lady! Now get down off that horse!"

He jumped down from Smoke and flung three sets of reins to Slim. "Make y'self useful and hold these, will y'?"

"Just exactly what do you think you are aiming to do?" Concord enquired coldly. It was a question everyone else would like to know the answer to as well.

"I'm aimin' to collect my reward," Jess replied with a feral grin, as he grabbed the housekeeper and hauled her off her mount. "Now, are you goin' to join us, Miss Unity, or do I have to get you down too?"

Unity considered for a moment whether resistance might not be pleasurable, but decided that, in his present mood, they would do well to co-operate with the gunman. She jumped obediently to the ground. Jess caught up the reins of the women's horses and divided these between Slim and Storner, who now had to struggle to control the whole bunch of them. The trace of a smirk could be seen on Jess's face as he seized the two women by the arm and marched them away into the surrounding trees. "We'll find somewhere nice 'n shady for a little rest."

Another wail from Unity was cut off abruptly with what sounded very much like a hard slap. Storner and Slim looked at each other. Slim had just realized that Jess had had his rope hitched over one shoulder. _Why?_ _And_ h _ow had he missed it?_

Feeling even more worried and annoyed, Slim dismounted and tried, unsuccessfully, to lead his charges after Jess. The horses were about as uncooperative as his partner and he was still struggling with them when Jess reappeared, looking pleased with himself. He took hold of Smoke and the other two horses, engaging in a brief wrestling match with the grey as he did so, and found himself confronted by Slim.

Slim could tower. Right now he was towering over Jess. His face was dark with worry and disappointment.

"Where are they?"

Jess jerked his head in the direction from which he had come, but made no other answer.

"You mean you left them?"

"Yeah." The younger man sounded as if he couldn't care less.

Slim did, though. "But I gave my word!"

"Y' didn't give mine!"

Slim tried to follow up his promise of protection for the two women, but Jess was now very effectively blocking his path. There was no easy way past him with all the horses milling about and Slim was forced to back up his charges until they reached the river bank and he had room to manoeuvre. But Jess left him no time to do any such thing, as he began to free the horses he was leading.

"Get the halters off the rest of them," he ordered, and, seeing the look on Slim's face, added: "an' quit worryin' – we ain't gonna be away more'n five minutes. They'll be fine."

Slim was all too well acquainted with Jess's definition of 'fine' and did not find this pronouncement in the least reassuring. "We're going nowhere until you explain exactly what we're doing!"

For a moment it looked as if Jess was going to demonstrate one of his "Just try and make me!" responses, but he evidently thought the better of it. "We're gonna drive our posse of horses up into the next valley. They often graze there, so Joe says they'll stay put and no nosy person is gonna think anything of them bein' there. Then we'll come back and pick up the women."

And, with some further precautions to cover the tracks of their three remaining mounts, they did exactly that. Slim was not amused, however, when they arrived at the nice, shady spot where Jess had left the two women. He had left them neatly tied to a tree and gagged with their own handkerchiefs. It was an understatement to say that they were annoyed! When he had hastened to release them, Slim rounded on his fellow escort and demanded another explanation.

"Just makin' them look innocent!" Jess told him, his own expression and tone doing its best to convey an equal blamelessness. "If anyone'd found them, they'd think they were just victims, not part of the escort party."

"Really?" Slim was not generally given to sarcasm, but there were times …! "That seems highly unlikely."

"What? Them bein' innocent? Y're hardly givin' the opinion of a reliable gentleman!"

"Which you obviously aren't" Concorde cut in angrily.

The gunman merely grinned at her and said: "In that case, you're gonna have difficulty decidin' who's gonna ride with me, aren't you?"

"Mr. Storner –"

"Is the one gettin' the benefit of our services. If he has to run, he ain't gonna want you weighin' him down!"

This insult had Concord fuming, but she was realistic enough to see that it would be a really bad idea to let Unity share a mount with this man. At least Sherman seemed to have some manners and, although he was undoubtedly the more handsome of the two, he did not have the gunman's dangerous allure. She gave in with haughty distaste, which obviously amused Jess very much.

Slim politely assisted Unity on to the lazy black, reflecting that all his attention would have to be directed to making the horse actually move under the double burden and there would be no time for enjoying riding with a charming young lady. On the up-side, he did not envy Jess having to be at close quarters with that battle-axe of a housekeeper, who would undoubtedly not appreciate having to share the grey: Smoke never gave anyone an easy ride.

"Rest easy an' keep y' mouth shut!" Jess's voice was low and soft enough for only Concord to hear. "Just listen an' do as y' told an' you'll get the outcome y' want."

 _So he is the one!_ Concord smiled grimly, but kept quiet.

"Now tell me where they're plannin' the ambush," was the next demand.

"You've made sure they can't follow us," she pointed out.

"They'll have a back-up plan," he observed contemptuously. "There's only so many ways t'get to the Laramie road."

"Hanging Tree Pass," she admitted.

She felt him laugh as he said: "Very appropriate! An' I don't suppose y' can call them off?"

She shook her head. This elicited an angry growl. "I ain't havin' any of them musclin' in on my money. If it comes to a fight, y' gonna lose some men."

"Recruiting is not a problem," she assured him coldly.

"Yeah? Well, ensurin' their loyalty is."

"I trust we have yours?"

"You have my services - for which you're gonna pay highly!" he informed her. She smiled inwardly, this time a smile of relief. It was always good to know you were on sound commercial ground.

It was also a relief when, after a few more miles of tortuous riding through scrub and underbrush and over every patch of rock and scree in the vicinity, they came down in to a little quarry, disused and half overgrown. In one corner, up against the rock face, was a lean-to hut doing more leaning than to-ing. Underneath was a very small, very elderly wagon. A couple of unkempt draught horses were hobbled in the shade.

Jess jumped down and lifted Concord to the ground rather more carefully than he had the first time. Then, before Slim could do anything, he held out his arms to Unity, who had no hesitation whatsoever in allowing herself to fall into them. Jess smirked and held on to her considerably longer than was actually necessary. Once he had finally released her, however, his next focus was entirely predictable. He grabbed the saddlebags from Smoke and held them out to the women, demanding as he did so, "Get the food ready. I'm starvin'!"

"No fire!" Slim ordered hastily.

Jess grinned. "Ain't gonna need one, are we?" He looked meaningfully at the two women, who had begun to unpack the supplies.

Slim dismounted and led the black over to where a small pool had formed in a hollow. Storner and Jess led their horses over too. While they were watering, Slim said quietly, "What's the point of the wagon? We were managing perfectly well riding."

"You were!" Jess quipped. "Y' needn't think I was enjoyin' myself."

Slim glared at him, but before he could defend his intentions towards Unity – which were, of course, quite honourable – Jess continued: "If it comes to a chase, we don't wanna be hampered by two women. They'll be fine in the wagon."

"I wish you'd stop using that word!" Slim growled.

"What word?"

"Fine! It usually means you're bleeding somewhere or hiding a broken bone. And I can't help thinking that it's asking for trouble."

"Oh, yeah – there'll be trouble all right," Jess assured him. Slim was by no means sure at this point that Jess was not busy generating the trouble himself. He sighed once more and ran over in his mind various strategies for dealing with the said trouble. But all he said was: "Come on, let's eat!" Maybe a good meal would put Jess in a less confusing mood.

It was not a good meal. Or rather, it was entirely health-giving and sustaining, but hardly the fare guaranteed to satisfy two hungry young men. Slim was, however, much too polite to question why he was being fed raw vegetables and a variety of fruit. After all, he'd eaten a lot worse during the war. Concord and Unity began to relax somewhat when they saw that he made no comment on the provisions. Storner kept his opinion to himself: the women had made it abundantly clear what would happen if he raised any protests. Jess just grinned quietly to himself.

They paused only to eat. Once the draught horses had been harnessed up to wagon, Storner was given charge of driving it – a menial task to which he would quite obviously have objected strongly had he been in his heyday. The spare horse was hitched on behind, just in case it was needed for a faster getaway than the wagon could afford.

Slim determinedly took the lead. He had orientated himself and now had a good idea of where they were in relation to the main road to Laramie. There were several possible ways they could rejoin the highway, but he was determined to keep their options open and he could not do that if Jess was railroading through alterations to the original plan and route. He made it abundantly clear the party was going to travel in the direction and at the speed which he had chosen; there were not going to be any more surprise improvisations to their progress. They continued to travel quietly and unobtrusively, without a betraying cloud of dust, until, eventually, they came down into a sheltered valley and found, as Slim had expected, a convenient line-shack.


	5. Chapter 5

_Escort Duty_

Jantallian

 **5**

"Still don't see how y' think it'll work?" – Jonesy had been thinking – " Y' can't expect Jess t' take over the operation without tellin' Slim what he's plannin'."

"Why not?" Mort did not seem troubled by the prospect, possibly because he was not going to have to deal with the consequences. Not immediately, at least.

"Because they ain't like that!" Jonesy exploded. "Ain't never bin a time since Jess took off for Baxter's Ridge after that rat, Bud Carlin, when he ain't bin one hundred percent upfront with Slim."

"Yeah?" Mort did not sound convinced. "You absolutely sure about that, Jonesy?"

"Yeah!" Jonesy snorted. "Jess might look like he's gonna make trouble an' sometimes he _is_ a bundle o' trouble, but he ain't never, ever let Slim down."

"You mean he's never lied to Slim? Never given him the wrong impression about anything?"

"Well …" Jonesy, like Slim, was honest and he had to admit there had been times when Jess had been less than frank about certain facts. "Only if he had to. Only if there wasn't any other way he could handle the situation."

"Exactly!" Mort said.

 **# # # # #**

Line-shacks were not renowned for their creature comforts. The horses were probably better off than their human riders, but there was nothing that could be done about this. Slim did feel something could have been done about the catering when he found himself faced with another meal composed of raw vegetables and more fruit. Before he could express his desire for a good, hot, cooked meat meal, however, Jess muttered a warning: "They're fanatic about what they eat – they reckon anything else is gonna poison them, so don't even suggest we ain't gonna eat along with their ideas. Y'can see what that woman is like!"

It was, indeed, obvious from the way she was handling the chopping knife that Concord Brown was not a woman to be trifled with. Slim might have had even more misgivings if he had heard the conversation between the two women as they prepared the simple evening meal.

Constance fixed her daughter with an iron stare. "He's the one Greerly sent – no doubt about that. Greerly's a good judge of what a man will do, given enough pressure or inducement, but we need to know Harper's plans. I'm not going into this blind and risking everything by relying on one man."

Unity nodded and asked: "What do you want me to do?"

Her mother did not soften her unrelenting look. "After supper, make yourself pleasant. Find out all you can. But don't get carried away. You're dealing with a professional killer who's out to take just what he wants. You know how much is at stake!"

Unity allowed herself a private smirk. 'What he wants' could cover a multitude of sins, most of them very enjoyable. Concord was well aware of this, but she needed the information and there was precious little she could do about the risks she had to take in obtaining it.

The meal was not convivial. A little alcohol of some kind might have made things more relaxed but their supplies did not include any. If they had, it was doubtful whether Slim would have partaken, even without the puritan reputation foisted on him by his reluctant associate; he had more sense of duty and responsibility than to risk any impairment of his senses.

The meal over, he and Storner pulled up chairs to the fire, the women having rejected polite offers of assistance in clearing up the dishes. Polite from Slim anyway. Storner merely growled that he was paying for housekeeping. Jess just shrugged and headed for the door, saying over his shoulder as he went: "They'll cope. I'm dyin' for a cigarette!"

 _One cigarette?_ Slim was of the opinion that, by the time he returned, Jess could have smoked a couple of ounces of tobacco and still had leisure for a long walk. It didn't look as if he had been for a walk. Or at any rate, not a long one. Unity came in with him. They were both smirking now.

Concord glared at them, but quickly erased the expression as Unity gave her the slightest of nods. Obviously she had succeeded in her mission. Equally obviously, if her rather dishevelled appearance was anything to go by, the young man had taken a due for the information she had procured.

Storner would have liked to glare at them, but reckoned that anything which kept the gunman sweet would be worth it if his own hide remained intact a while longer. On the other hand, he was under no illusion about the danger of whatever scheme Harper might be hatching. Storner only hoped he'd been fully occupied by Unity's undoubted charms and not just disguising the fact that he was plotting with her.

Slim was frankly baffled and not a little annoyed. He didn't particularly care about the girl, except in so far as it was his job to protect her, and was largely indifferent to Jess, in effect, cutting him out. It was the mere fact that his partner had chosen to get entangled – or at any rate, to look as if he had been thoroughly entangled – in the middle of a serious situation requiring their full attention. It just wasn't like Jess, who was generally remarkably hard-headed under pressure and in danger.

Jess let his gaze travel across the four faces in front of him. Inwardly he was feeling a mixture of intense anticipation, powerful tension and sheer devilment. Outwardly he continued to look bored and just as irritable, as if the interlude with Unity had never happened. He raised one eyebrow and said to Slim, "Settin' a watch?" This was going to be a problem with just the two of them.

Slim turned to the others and said firmly, "Get some rest while you can." As they settled down as best they could in the primitive accommodation, he jerked his head towards the door, indicating silently to Jess that they should go outside together. Jess followed him, but left the door open enough to see what was going on inside.

"This place is a rat-trap!" Jess observed quietly but disgustedly. "Too much cover too close to the building and plenty of places where we'd be hard pushed to get a clean shot at anyone shootin' at us."

"You reckon so?" Slim found himself treating anything Jess said now with a healthy degree of caution.

"I know so. Just spent plenty of time scoutin' all around, findin' out."

"Really?" Slim looked sceptical. "You certainly didn't give any such impression!"

Jess regarded him pityingly, as if astounded at his obtuseness. "Y'don't think I'm goin' to let on to that rat, Storner, what I'm thinkin' or doin', do y'? The girl was just useful. If she hadn't come out of her own accord, I'd've hauled her out for a little walk anyway."

"So she knows we can't defend this place?"

"I'm not stupid!" Jess snapped. "It was easy enough to fool her about what we were doin'." He laughed cruelly and added, "Draggin' two women along is a crazy idea anyway, even if it does have some benefits. The sooner we ditch them and get away with Storner, the better!"

"I gave my word to protect them," Slim told him coldly. "What you do is up to you. But I'm not leaving them behind."

"Oh, really? Well, just remember I ain't spoken any word, even to you!"

That hurt much more than Slim would readily admit. _What the heck had got into Jess, to make him act like this? And why had he come at all, if he was just going to be obstructive every step of the way?_ Slim only hoped it was because, when it came to a crisis, Jess would have his back, just as he always did in danger. But … he cut short this train of thought. He trusted Jess. He had to. No matter what.

Taking care to keep his expression neutral, Slim said, "We'll rest here until the moon starts to rise. Then we're heading out."

Jess nodded. There was no sense is staying where they could be trapped and picked off so easily. He leaned against the shack wall and rolled himself another cigarette. Seeing Slim's expression, he shrugged and answered the unspoken criticism: "If they're anywhere around, they'll know we're here whatever we do. The question is, how to get away quietly when we go."

"We're going to walk," Slim told him firmly.

"Walk!" Like most horsemen, Jess counted walking amongst his least favourite activities.

"Yeah, walk! I know where there's better shelter not far away. Once we've got the party there, you can walk back and get the horses!" Slim couldn't help winding Jess up a bit over this, although he had actually no intention of carrying out his plan in such a way.

"The hell I will!" The confrontation with Mort was nothing compared with Jess's vigorous opposition to any attempt on Slim's part to coerce him into something he didn't want to do, especially if it involved walking! "I say we go now and use the stream again. I'll move the wagon and our charges out under cover of darkness. You skirt round and mess up the trail again with the horses. Y' can join us at the waterfall as quick as the wagon'll get up there."

 _Full marks for knowing the territory, Jess!_ Slim thought, at the same time as congratulating himself on manoeuvring Jess into doing what he wanted by the simple, but effective, tactic of suggesting a course of action which he was bound to resist. The cave was indeed the hiding place he was proposing and he had a very similar way of getting there in mind. Jess's plan was not without merit, as it would enable them to continue the next day with all their transport options intact. He considered for a moment insisting that he drove the wagon, but it was less likely Jess would undertake any hair-brained diversions with the cumbersome wagon, even if it did mean leaving the safety of the party in his far from enthusiastic hands.

"Ok. On one condition: that you give me your word you'll protect them."

There was a lengthy pause. Jess's forehead creased in thought, his eyebrows drew together and the expression on his face suggested he was engaged in some complicated mathematical calculation, probably of the odds. Slim waited patiently. Mathematics was not Jess's strong suit. Slim just hoped he could get the human sums figured out right.

"I'll give you my word to protect them as far as the waterfall."

"For heaven's sake, Jess!" Slim's much-tried patience finally exploded into exasperation. The desire to grab his uncooperative partner and shake him until his teeth rattled was hard to resist, but he was not going to be dragooned into behaving impetuously just because circumstances were pressing him to do exactly that. Instead he channelled his anger into controlling the situation. "The waterfall is half a mile away! We have three people to keep safe until Laramie. Is half a mile of protection enough?"

Jess's chin went up defiantly and he growled, "It's enough for what we have to do. Take it or leave it!"

Slim glared at him. "And I do have your word?"

"As far as the waterfall," Jess repeated.

"Get the wagon!" Slim ordered.

Not long after that, the wagon and its passengers made their way up a broad, shallow riverbed and were ensconced in the cave behind the waterfall at the head of the river. Slim arrived not much later with the saddle horses. By the firm grip he had on Smoke's reins and the way he was leading the grey on the opposite side to the other horses, it was evident the animal's irritation was in no way diminished. The humans felt much the same. Everyone was soaking wet and very cold and thoroughly annoyed.

"D'you bring the lamp?" Slim demanded.

Jess gave him a look of contempt. "Two lamps! An' we left lights burnin' in the cabin. Should keep 'em occupied for a while."

"I'll go ahead with one lantern, then. You drive and Mr. Storner can hold the other."

"Mr. Storner," that gentleman said coldly, "would like to know what the hell is going on!"

"Yeah? Well, you ain't gonna know!" Jess told him bluntly. "Now shut up and hold the lantern."

They set off further into the recesses of the cave. To the surprise of the Storner party, the hiding place under the waterfall led into a series of obviously man-made tunnels. Very few people knew of the cave itself, let alone that it was connected with old mine workings in the mountain ridge from which the waterfall cascaded. Many of the tunnels had originally been natural caves, carved out by the flow of underground water; the miners had simply enlarged and reinforced them. If you knew which were the main routes, a small wagon could be manoeuvred through the passages which had once been used for removing spoil. With only a couple of mistaken turnings, the party eventually found themselves emerging on the other side of the mountain ridge. Close below them was another shack, abandoned by the miners when they departed.

Slim ordered the lanterns to be extinguished. They left the wagon concealed in the cave and tethered the horses to it, out of sight, taking the precaution of tying Smoke on the opposite side to the others. Then they made their way down to the shelter stealthily, with minimum of disturbance. It was a much better prospect than the one they had left, since it stood back against the cliff-face, with minimal cover of any kind, and the narrow valley dropped away steeply below it. There was no chance of anyone approaching without being seen at least a quarter of a mile off. All the same, Slim was taking no chances and vetoed the idea of a fire in no uncertain manner. The smell of wood-smoke would carry too far to be safe, even if it could not be seen against the rock-face.

This meant they were all going to continue wet and cold, with no means of warmth or of drying any clothes. Slim and Jess had bedrolls and, on Slim's insistence, gave the blankets to the women and Storner. There was precious little privacy in the shack, but the prospect of staying soaking wet all night was enough of an incentive for the recipients to shed their clothing and huddle thankfully into the dry covering.

Slim and Jess both took off their wet jackets, which, after a second inundation, showed signs of being distinctly the worse for wear. Jess pulled his shirt over his head too, and tossed it onto one of the rickety chairs furnishing the cabin. Round his left arm, the bandage which he had managed to put on during their brief stop in Laramie was soaked with blood; the exertion of the last few hours had not done it any good at all. He gave a grunt of disgust and delved hopefully in his saddlebag, looking for a replacement.

"Let me!" Unity advanced, with a canteen of water in one hand and a strip torn from her petticoat in the other.

 _Typical Jess!_ Slim thought irritably. _You could almost imagine he got injured deliberately just in order to get the attention of any susceptible female within range._

"D'you know what y're doin'?" Jess demanded ungratefully, showing no sign of the manipulative behaviour Slim had just attributed to him.

"I've had plenty of experience," she told him archly. That was evident as she cleaned the wound – a straightforward groove ploughed through his upper arm by a passing bullet – and bandaged it carefully. And slowly. She was obviously not averse to close contact with a bare-chested and distinctly attractive male, which was, all things considered, scarcely surprising, given the previous encounter they had had.

Jess watched her with an intensity which made Slim feel uneasy. If pushed to give an opinion, he would have said Unity was definitely not Jess's type. Yet he seemed to be deliberately encouraging her to a level of intimacy that was totally inappropriate to the situation, not to mention the orders they were supposed to be carrying out. Generally, Slim would have said Jess was perfectly modest as far as what he would call 'good women' were concerned. Yet here he was, showing no objection whatsoever to stripping off and being tended to by an innocent young girl clad, very fetchingly, in not much more than one of his blankets.

Unity would, of course, have found the designation 'innocent' highly amusing. She was busy calculating how she could take advantage of the situation in which they found themselves and, meanwhile, was enjoying herself very much. Her patient was all and more than she had expected. It just remained now for the others to drop into an exhausted and very convenient sleep. She was, however, doomed to disappointment. Sleep did indeed overcome the weary, but both their escorts took up positions at the windows and mounted guard.


	6. Chapter 6

_Escort Duty_

Jantallian

 **6**

"Slim won't stand for it!" Jonesy asserted firmly, confident in the long years he had known Slim Sherman, boy and man. "He ain't gonna take any nonsense if you gave him charge of the job."

"Yeah, that's what I hope," Mort replied. "That he'll keep doing the job I've given him and Jess will keep doing exactly whatever he feels like and between the two of them …"

"There'll be trouble!" Jonesy predicted gloomily. "You know how it is when they get across each other!"

"Won't be the first time," Mort pointed out truthfully.

"Yeah, but usually it's over who's gotta do the washin' up. Or Jess an' Andy pullin' one of their practical jokes."

"Or Slim taking life too seriously. Or Jess haring off on some wild goose chase!"

"Or a woman …"

They both reflected on this last idea in silence for some time. Storner had demanded that his women were rescued too.

Then Jonesy said fairly confidently: "It's not often a woman!"

 **# # # # #**

In the middle of a cold and uncomfortable night, Unity woke to find herself huddled into a scratchy blanket and unbelievably stiff from trying to sleep in a dilapidated armchair. The sound of a whispered but vehement conversation was what had woken her.

"Why the hell don't y' get some sleep?"

"And leave you in charge?"

"I can't see that two of us wearin' ourselves out watchin' is gonna be any better than one."

"You sleep, then!"

"You know y' need more sleep than I do."

There was muffled intake of breath which sounded very much like a snort of derision. "I'm not the one who can't get up in the morning."

"Refuses to get up – that's different!"

"You could have fooled me."

"Someone will, if y' too bleary eyed to see what goin' on come morning."

The girl smiled to herself in the darkness. She could just make out two broad-shouldered silhouettes against the paler squares of the moonlit windows. She knew why the gunman was hoping to get his companion to give in to sleep and was disappointed when he did not succeed.

"I'll risk it."

"Yeah? An' what about riskin' your precious prisoner, not to mention the women?"

"I didn't mention the women! But since you've brought them into it, would you mind explaining what the heck you think you're doing with that girl?"

"Yeah, I would. Mind y'own business!"

"This success of this escort is my business. So either shut up and stay on guard or shut up and go to sleep. I can manage to keep watch perfectly well without you."

The taller shadow turned back to the window. She saw the other's shoulders shrug as he growled: "Suit y'self! I can think of better company than you, anyway."

She heard him move across the shack in her direction. A moment later, a strong hand gripped her arm and she was hauled unceremoniously out of the chair. "Move over! Y've had all night in that chair!"

He slumped into it, still holding his rifle with one hand, while with the other he pulled Unity towards him. "I could do with keepin' warm and you'll do very nicely!"

Unity was only too willing to oblige, but once again she did not get the chance. She had scarcely settled comfortably into his arms when three different voices put a stop to any romantic ambitions she might have.

"Unity! That's enough!" Concord's voice cut the air like a knife, causing Jess to chuckle deeply and murmur, "You jealous, lady? Just wait y'turn!"

At almost the same time, Storner pleaded swiftly: "Leave them alone, Concord!" and he was interrupted by the other deputy who snapped: "We've got company!"

"Where?" Jess leapt to his feet with scant regard to the effect on the young lady who had only moments ago been settled happily on his knee. Unity hit the floor and Jess hit it too, diving back to the position he had so recently vacated at the window.

"Heading for the ridge," Slim told him. "Three or four of them, to the left."

"Yeah. I see. Guess the best way is to go out after 'em. They can't know we're here. They're probably aimin' to go over the ridge and take the line shack from above."

Slim nodded in agreement with this assessment of the situation. "If we can get round to the south, flank them and come up behind, they'll never know what hit them."

Jess gave him one of those feral grins. "Right. Let's get at it. The women can stay here, but it's about time Storner made some pay back."

A swift look passed between them, the kind of look they had so often shared, a look which conveyed precisely the next course of action and the part each of them would play in it. Slim was conscious of an enormous sense of relief. He nodded in assent and said to Storner: "Get dressed. We need you for this."

"Surely not!" Concord protested. "Mr Storner is the one you are supposed to be protecting!"

"Mr. Storner is the only one who can identify those men," Slim told her firmly, "and make sure we aren't taking down some innocent passers-by."

Storner began grumpily to pull on his damp clothing. Jess left the window and more or less stood over him, underlining silently the need for speed. When he was finished, Storner demanded nervously: "What about the saddlebag, the money?"

"Leave it!" Slim ordered. "We've more important things to worry about." He half expected Jess to protest, given his previous attitude, but he just nodded and agreed: "It ain't goin' anywhere and neither are the ladies. I'm sure they'll look after it for you and make certain it's all there when we get back."

He was looking straight at Concord. She shrugged. He was quite right. There was nowhere to go that did not involve considerable risk under the circumstances. All the same, she was thinking hard.

"Besides," the gunman added, "they ain't goin' anywhere either, not in bare feet." He stooped and picked up the shoes the women had discarded. "We'll just leave these in a nice, high place," he told them maliciously. "An' I wouldn't try runnin' for it without them. It's a nasty thing to step on a rattler in the dark!"

"You're supposed to be protecting us too!" Concord hissed.

"Just makin' sure you stay safely here," she was told. "Or would y' rather I tied you up again?"

"Mrs. Brown, please just use your common sense!" Slim pleaded. "There's nowhere to go, even if he doesn't hide your shoes." He was not sure why Jess was so keen to prevent the women leaving, unless of course it was for Unity's sake, but had to concur that they would be safest where they were.

"We ain't goin' fast enough!" Jess reminded him. "Come on!"

The three of them went purposefully out into the darkness and the door closed behind them.

 **# # # # #**

Scaling the ridge was not easy. Scaling it in silence was even more difficult. Fortunately the ones they were tracking had no idea they were being followed and the sounds of their boots on the rock and the rattle of displaced stones were a clear indication of where they were and how fast they were progressing.

Slim guided his companions to the south of the men they were tracking, knowing the slope of the land meant that they could not be picked out by their enemies. True to his promise, Jess carefully placed the women's shoes on a branch of a dead tree, as dead as Slim had always imagined the Tree in the Garden had become after the Fall. Jess was certainly living up to his role as the devious serpent. Slim just hoped it wasn't permanent. He shook his head, determined to clear his mind of all these fanciful thoughts and nagging worries: he needed to concentrate on the task in hand.

After a while, they were so close to their quarry they could hear the muttered conversation between them, which carried clearly on the still air.

"You sure we're over that shack, Kelly?"

There was a mumbled assent, liberally decorated with curses.

"Ok, you take Sanders and Price. Head round the back. Mason and I'll take the front. They'll be nicely caught in the cross-fire!"

Slim looked at Storner, who nodded silently and then whispered: "Those are all men who rode with me."

"You've got a new recruit," Jess said softly, "unless I'm imaginin' I know that voice."

"We joined forces a few months ago," Storner admitted. Slim had no idea who they were talking about and Jess did not seem about to explain, but whoever it was must be formidable if they could negotiate a joint venture with Storner. He gestured to Jess to follow the new leader and his companion. That left three men for him to deal with, but the other two were probably more dangerous, which evened things out. They were outnumbered, unless he gave Storner a weapon, which was the last thing he had any intention of doing. But they did have the advantage of surprise.

"Try to keep them in more or less in one piece, if you can," he suggested to Jess. "We want them to be able to stand trial."

Storner looked as if nothing was closer to his heart.

"You stay here!" Slim ordered. He was far from sure that Storner would not change his mind and make a bolt for it, so he decided to take a leaf out of Jess's book – or, at any rate, use his technique, since books and Jess had a minimal acquaintance with each other. "And take your boots off!"

Once this was done, the pair of them faced the most dangerous part of their mission, getting down the hillside without any betraying noises. Jess vanished into the cover like a passing shadow. Slim followed suit. They had made no arrangement about the timing of their attack because they did not need to. Each of them knew the way the other would make their approach plus the speed and stealth with which they could move, so that they were aware instinctively of exactly how long it would take them both to reach their objective.

No sooner had they done so than a fusillade of shots ripped through the line shack.

Slim waited until the firing had ceased, then flicked the rifle bolt, a distinctive sound which his opponents would recognise instantly. "Get your hands up!" he ordered. "You're surrounded!"

One man of the three was rash enough to make a run for it. He was clearly visible in the moonlight as he dodged and dived for cover, whereas Slim was still concealed in the shadows. A swift shot brought him down. Slim pumped off another few bullets, close enough for the other men to feel them, giving the impression that several people were aiming at them. Unable to see anything, they wisely surrendered.

When he had disarmed them, he backed away and examined the man who had run. Although Slim had done his best to wing him, he had turned at the last moment and was decidedly dead. Presently there was a sound of feet approaching and Jess appeared, herding the other two in front of him. One was clutching a bleeding head. The other appeared to be, as requested, in one piece.

"That's the last time I trust your scouting, Kelly!" the disgruntled leader snarled.

"Shut up!" Jess prodded him in the back with his gun. "You ain't gonna be doin' any trustin' for a long, long time!"

The man turned towards him and, even in the moonlight, his face turned pale with anger. "Well, I'll be damned!"

"Any court'll be glad to oblige you!" Jess informed him.

"Ain't you gunnin' on the wrong side, Harper?"

"What wrong side? The only right side is the one that's payin'!" Jess gave him a shove in the direction of his fellows.

Faced with four prisoners and a steep climb, they were in something of tricky position, since none of them would be able to make it without the use of at least one hand. Slim solved the immediate problem by strapping their arms above the elbow with their gunbelts, giving them some use of their hands, but not enough to cause trouble easily.

Jess followed this up with another of his deprivation techniques. "Get your pants off!"

"What?" – "How the hell?" – "You're kiddin'!" four voices protested almost as one.

Jess placed a bullet neatly between the knees of the leader. "If you think I'm kiddin', the next one'll go somewhere you'll find awful hard to bandage!" he promised.

Five minutes later, four outlaws stood shivering in their drawers as Jess rolled the discarded pants into a neat bundle. "By rights, I should stuff these in the nearest skunk's hole, but I ain't got time to find one!"

"Right, move! Back the way you came." Slim concealed his amusement at the spectacle of the powerful and ruthless thus brought low by such a simple expedient. Since he had no intention of revealing the short cut through the mines, they collected Storner and returned his boots, after which the whole party shuffled and struggled up the ridge again and down the other side to the comparative safety and concealment at the old mine.

 **# # # # #**

"There's no trace of them anywhere, Mort!" There was a distinctly disgruntled tone of complaint in the voice of Toby Miller, the leader of the extra posse which Mort had sent north. The men had just ridden in and pulled up outside his office.

Mort was still sitting in the rocking chair, just like the day before, although Jonesy had grumbled his way back to the relay station and its chores, uttering dire prognostications about the likelihood of trouble on the horizon. The sheriff appeared to be deeply engrossed in a flight of pigeons over the Livery Stable – or he could have been scanning the horizon for storm-clouds.

"Are you listening to me?" Miller demanded impatiently.

Mort's gaze left the pigeons and rested on the exasperated members of the posse, who were surrounding what looked to be a number of prisoners. "Say your piece," he invited Miller. "You seem to have done some good."

"No thanks to Harper!" Miller growled. "Some kid turned up at the rendezvous, driving Storner's buggy and claimed that Jess Harper had sent him to cause a diversion while your escort went off into the mountains on a bunch of horses Storner had bought from his pa."

"And had they?"

"Yeah. We got the kid to take us back to his pa's place. Apparently Harper made Storner pay for the use of the horses and a wagon they were going to pick up later. Didn't seem to be much we could do there, so we left the kid and his old man, but we told them they'd have to come into town and give evidence if the escort duty went wrong."

Mort nodded, accepting this piece of decision-making. "And did it?"

Miller shrugged. "Can't tell. We traced them from the shack where they'd bought the horses, but the trail was cold and Harper's too good a scout himself to leave much trace. Then we ran into a bunch of Storner's men. They were having the same problem as us, tracking the party. They put up a bit of a fight, but we brought the live ones in." He jerked his head in the direction of five men still sitting, hands bound, on their horses.

Mort nodded again. "Get them inside and lock them up." He thought for a moment and added: "You did the right thing. Well done."

Boots tramped past him as the posse made quick work of locking up their captives, before making as a man for the saloon. Mort continued to sit staring into space. He wondered where his escort party had got to. The odds against them had been reduced somewhat by the arrests made by the posse, but there was no way of telling what other dangers might face them. But Slim was hard-headed and experienced, not likely to be anything less than one hundred percent alert and capable – and Jess positively thrived on danger and difficulty.

The question was: _where were they holed up and how were they aiming to get safely back to Laramie with their witness intact?_

 **# # # # #**

By the time they arrived at the mine entrance the outlaws were battered, scratched and very cold: Jess had refused to give them their pants back. This did nothing to improve their tempers or their language. The leader, particularly, seemed to find it hard to believe it was Jess Harper who had disarmed him and was now bent on making his future movements very limited indeed.

There was no need for Slim to tell Jess to make sure their prisoners were tied securely, but he did so just the same. Since Jess was acquainted with the leader, he could take no risks.

"If you knew the history," Jess told him bluntly, "you'd know there's no way on this earth I'm gonna let Greerly jump me. Not a second time."

"But I don't," Slim pointed out, "so make a good job of it!"

"You wanna test the knots?" Jess scowled.

"No, I think you're probably capable of tying up a piece of rope. Just get on with it!" Slim turned away and began to herd Storner down towards the hut.

Jess made as if to protest, but, for once, it was he who was too late. He was left with four angry prisoners to deal with, one of whom had precious little respect for him. Sure enough, Greerly immediately began to needle him: "Y' wasting your time, Harper. This whole operation is bigger than you'll ever imagine, and I'm at the top of it!"

"Yeah. Right now, I can see that," Jess told him sarcastically.

"If you think y' can get away with Storner, you're asking for everything coming to you!" Greerly told him. "Concord Brown'll see to that!"

"Will she now?" Jess sounded supremely uninterested and disbelieving. "Can't think what a nice respectable housekeeper like her would have to do with the likes of you."

"What any woman wants to do!" Greely grinned. "Get hitched to the boss-man."

"The only thing you're gettin' hitched to is the side of this wagon!" Jess told him ruthlessly. He was busy finishing off the roping which would keep the four flat on the floor of the wagon. Next he began systematically to gag them.

"If you're aiming to take my place, forget it!" Greerly sneered. "That woman knows her mind. And she knows who's capable of running the show."

Jess grinned. "Ain't aimin' to run anythin' except a long way with a lot of money – and maybe a pretty daughter in tow. Y' can keep Mrs Brown and the power!" He gave the gag a final, savage yank which made Greerly gasp with pain, but the sound was lost in the sudden crack of a pistol.

"Oh hell!" Jess flung a tarpaulin over the recumbent prisoners, concealing them completely, and made a dash for the hut.

He burst through the hut door, slamming it back against the wall with a resounding crash. Given that he did not actually know what was going on inside, this was probably not one of his brighter moves, although fortunately he managed, as usual, to get away with his impetuous recklessness.

Once over the threshold, Jess stopped abruptly. Instead of tearing the place apart, he shrugged and leaned casually against the doorpost in his favourite stance, as if nothing could be further from his mind than precipitating any kind of fight. This was not particularly comforting to the two men crouched on the floor.

They were crouched on the floor in a manner which suggested that Slim had been trying to protect Storner and taken a bullet in the arm for his pains. Concord Brown was covering them with a small pistol in her hand and a distinct gleam of satisfaction in her eye. When Jess burst in, she did not even glance in his direction but kept her attention firmly on the two she was covering.

"You sure y' really need my services, lady?" Jess enquired drily. "You seem to be takin' matters into y' own hands."

"Greerly and his men will be here soon and he isn't going to be pleased with losing some of them!" she snapped. "It's time to dispose of these two if you want to earn your money!"

"Oh, I intend to have the money," Jess assured her. "And I ain't sharin' it with Greerly or anyone else!"

"So suppose you start earning it right now!"

Jess moved from the door and strolled across to stand over the two on the floor. If they had any hope that he was going to rescue them, this was swiftly disappointed. He looked down with an expression of absolute contempt on his face and kicked Stoner hard. "I've waited a long time to get even with you – and to get the back pay you owe me!"

Slim was utterly bewildered by all this. _Jess? Willing to change sides, to betray a friend, to ride with the lawless – for money?_ Even when he gambled and played a mean hand of poker, it was the skill, not the winnings, which he enjoyed. Money rarely stuck to Jess, in fact he was generous to a fault in giving it away. Slim simply could not believe that he was motivated by it now, when he had arrived at the relay station with nothing to show for a lucrative career as a hired gun but the meagre contents of two battered saddlebags!

As if in answer to his thought, Unity lifted the saddlebag and they all heard the coins shifting. "It's all here."

Concord ordered: "If you want it, kill them now!"

"You tellin' me how to do my job?" Jess snarled. " 'Cause if you are, y' can think again! You ain't thought this through, have y'? But I have and I'll thank you to let me do it my way."

Concord lifted her chin and glared at him. Jess turned away from the two on the floor and moved towards Unity, who was smiling eagerly at him. "You ready, girl?" he asked.

Jess's back was turned and he was between Concord and Slim. It was a chance which would not come again. Slim rolled over swiftly, reaching for his gun, which he was still wearing. Jess span round like lightning the moment he began to move and, in less than a breath, had Slim in the sights of his own weapon.

"Don't even think about it, y' damn' Yankee property owner!" the gunman sneered. "I can put two bullets in you before your hand even meets your holster."

 _So that was it! The insult said it all. The old wounds of the war, the bitter conflict which had placed them on different sides for no real reason. And perhaps the memory of the first time they met, when Slim had tried to run Jess off his property._

"Then get on and do it!" Concord commanded impatiently.

Jess backed across the room towards the two women, never taking his eyes of Slim and Storner. "Got your gear?" he asked Unity.

When she nodded, he grinned, turned suddenly to Concord and disarmed her by the simple expedient of snatching the pistol out of her hand. While she was still gasping with surprise, he snapped: "Sit down!" and when she hesitated: "Sit in that chair and don't move! I ain't tellin' y' twice. If you want t' live, keep still!"

"Unity!" A mother's appeal fell on stony ground. After all, what is a mother, compared with a good-looking young man with excellent survival skills and a lot of money?

"There's rope outside the door – get it!" Jess ordered Unity.

When she returned, he tied Concord securely to the chair and set about Storner and Slim, binding their hands behind their backs.

"Now listen to me!" he ordered the two women. "There's no sense in shootin' a deputy. All that'll do is bring down a posse on our heels and with Sherman's reputation, they ain't gonna give up till they've caught up with us. What I'm goin' to do is stage a perfectly natural accident. Somethin' spooked the team and Mr Sherman and Mr Storner took a most unfortunate fall over the edge of a canyon – a fall I'll make sure they don't survive! Then you –" he addressed Concord, "you can do what you like with Greerly. I'm headin' for the border with the money." He looked at Unity. "You can ride along, if y' like, but don't get any big ideas about partin' me from it. I'd rather have dollars than a dame, any day!"

Without more ado, he hauled Slim and Storner to their feet and pushed them towards the door.

"Keep an eye on y' mother!" he told Unity. "Make sure she don't get free."

"I haven't got a gun," the girl protested.

"I know. I've got your gun and your knife. Y' should try hidin' them somewhere less obvious." That knowing smirk crossed Jess's face once more as he said this. "You don't need to be armed. If you think she's getting loose, just give her a tap with a log of wood – like this!"

He turned suddenly back to the prisoners and the last thing Slim remembered was the butt of Jess's gun making contact with his head.

 **# # # # #**

"Wake up, will y'! Come on, Slim, y' not tryin'!"

An icy splash of water hit Slim in the face and he choked and spluttered his way back to consciousness.

"C'm on! Wake up! I ain't got all day!"

Jess was leaning over him, giving him exactly the kind of vigorous shaking which he had sometimes applied to his partner as the first light heralded the dawn of another day's work. The urge to retaliate was considerable, but Slim was dizzy and disorientated as well as totally confused and completely incensed by what had happened.

"Ugh!" It was about as much as his throbbing head could manage. It earned him another dousing of water.

"Wake up!" Jess demanded once more. "You ain't got time to lie here sleepin' your head off all day!"

 _Was that ever the pot calling the kettle black!_

Yet another splash of water hit Slim in the face. It confirmed his suspicion that he had not, after all, fallen to his death in a canyon, although he might be drowning in the river at the bottom of one.

"Will you pack it in!"

"Will you wake up! I need to talk to y'."

"Talk?" Slim pulled himself gingerly into sitting position and rubbed his aching head. "What the hell have we got to talk about?"

"About keepin' your word," Jess told him. His tone was utterly serious and sincere. He sounded nothing like the callous gunslinger who was prepared to sell out his friend for money. "Now listen up!"

"I'm listening!"

"You've got the wagon with four outlaws hidden in the back where the Browns ain't spotted them - includin' Owen Greerly, who's wanted for more crimes than I care to count. You've got Storner in one piece, exactly like y' gave your word. Now just drive to Laramie. Don't stop for anythin'! And don't use Hanging Tree pass – there's an ambush waitin' for y' if you do!"

"Ugh?"

"Slim, have you got that? D'you hear what I said?"

"Yeah, I heard you."

"We're keepin' your word. Understand?"

"Yeah, I understand. But I gave my word to protect those women."

Jess gave an exasperated groan. "I reckon they're quite capable of takin' care of themselves!"

"Yeah, with you to help them. And the money, of course."

Jess sighed, a look of long-suffering, total innocence transforming his face once again. Slim wasn't fooled by this – he'd seen it far too often in too many situations where Jess had been less than anything of the kind.

But now Jess was saying: "Y' gave your word. I ain't never known you to break it and I ain't about to be the one who does it for y' now. I'll bring them in – and the money too."

Slim wondered if he was still unconscious and dreaming all this, but Jess continued: "In the mess? Up to the neck? Right alongside you?" He was grinning broadly.

 _Nothing seemed to make sense any more. Maybe it was the blow on the head. Jess sure knew how to lay a fellow out._

"Slim, you've gotta wake up and go. Right now! I don't know what else has been planned, but Greerly ain't one to leave anythin' to chance. And neither is Concord Brown. Now will y' just get goin' for Laramie!"

Jess hauled Slim to his feet and pushed him into the driving seat. He was regarding him with a look of martyred patience which Slim knew exactly how to interpret. It meant Jess was not going to be reasonable unless he got his own way and was quite likely to resort to underhand means to get it. The serpent in the Garden had nothing on Jess when it came to sneaky scheming.

 _But he'd said "we're keeping your word". And if he said it, he meant it. In the end, the trust between them was stronger than anything else._

Slim bent down to pick up the reins and gave a stifled groan as not only his head spun but his roughly bandaged arm protested violently. He sat up slowly and glared down at Jess, who had jumped to the ground. "You'd better have a damn good reason for all this! And another thing -"

"Yeah?"

"You can give me your word that you'll bring those women to Laramie, safe and sound."

The feral grin reappeared momentarily as Jess told him: "Provided they treat me the same. You've seen what they're like!"

"Yeah. And I still don't understand what the hell is going on?"

"You're going. To Laramie. Pronto! Y' can have all the explanations y' want once we get there."

"I want your word, Jess. Right now!"

"You got it, partner … you always did."


	7. Chapter 7

_Escort Duty_

Jantallian

 **7**

"And now, Sherriff Cory, I want a full explanation!" Slim stabbed a chunk of fried chicken with his fork and waved it at Mort. He was struggling somewhat, as his bandaged right arm was in a neat sling. The doc had patched up both their bullet wounds, but had long ago stopped trying to persuade Jess to wear anything as sensible as a sling. "Just what exactly did you intend when you sent us to get Storner and why the hell didn't you tell me the truth?"

"I did tell you the truth," Mort replied. "Just not the whole of it."

"Yeah, I got that much!" Slim retorted angrily, making another stab at the chicken. They were seated in the corner of the saloon, getting on the outside of a substantial meal which Mort was paying for. Both his deputies had insisted it was the least he could do after the privations of their escort duty.

"I didn't tell you the whole truth because you're honest," Mort continued. "You wouldn't lie and I needed to be sure Concord Brown would read that in your face. Besides, I had to send someone who Storner could see was decent and honest and totally reliable. That's you. He needed to know without doubt there was one man in his escort he could trust."

"You mean because the other was a scheming, devious, unscrupulous, conniving, unpredictable …" Slim ran out of adjectives.

The man in question raised an eyebrow at this and said helpfully: "Opportunist?"

"Yeah, that was the other kind of escort I was thinking of," Mort agreed. "I needed to send someone who Concord Brown would recognise and think _she_ could trust."

Slim frowned. "I know you arrested them when Jess brought them in, but I still don't see why – why did she try to kill Storner and want Jess to finish us off?"

Mort and Jess were both grinning at the memory of the arrival of the two women at the Sherriff's Office in Laramie. Jess had just about escaped with a nasty scratch on his face when Unity discovered he was not, after all, going to elope to Canada with her and, of course, all the money. Concord was smarting, literally, because she had made a determined break for freedom, but had unfortunately chosen Smoke as her get-away steed. The grey had bitten her hard, much to the amusement of his owner.

"Storner wrote to me," Mort explained. "He wanted to turn state evidence, but he was afraid he would be stopped. He told me that he was just the figurehead for the gangs and Constance had been running the whole show for years. He was certain she would have him killed because she was planning to team up with Greerly and eventually take over his operation in the same way. The most effective method of achieving this was to use her influence to make sure one of Storner's escorts was corrupt enough to be willing kill him for the money. That way, she was in the clear and no-one would suspect what she actually was. I had to send someone she knew and thought she could bribe into doing the job for her."

While this explanation was being given, despite the facts it was revealing about his involvement, Jess made no contribution whatsoever. On the contrary, he was applying himself, with his usual single-minded determination, to demolishing a good chicken dinner. He'd already finished his first plate and was making considerable inroads into the second one. Mort was not sure whether his bank balance was going to stand the assault made on it by paying for Jess Harper's appetite, but he guessed he would have to live with that. After all, his most recalcitrant deputy had sized up the situation correctly and done exactly what Mort had hoped.

Slim was still waving the fork, his need for explanation outweighing the needs of his stomach. "So how did Jess know what was up?" He glared at his partner, who continued eating as if his life depended upon it. Maybe, at this juncture, it did. "Apart from the fact that he's a no-good, devious, underhand, manipulative –"

"Yeah, yeah, we know all that!" Jess paused momentarily, cast a longing look at his plate, and restrained himself long enough to amplify the story: "Five years ago, Stoner got hold of a kid I was ridin' with at the time – used him to force me to fight for him against the Cades. What he didn't know was, while he had me hog-tied in his house, I overheard enough to tell me who was really runnin' the show. A nastier pair o' pieces of work than Concord and Unity Brown y'd be hard pushed to find!"

Jess returned to finishing his chicken and Slim returned to the attack: "You didn't seem to mind courting Unity!"

"Are you kiddin'?" Jess protested with his mouth full.

"You were enjoying it!"

"Was not! How would you enjoy havin' t' cosy up to a girl who'd cut your throat as soon as get into bed with you?" But it was an absent-minded protest. Jess had finished his own meat and was now wistfully eying the neglected and rapidly cooling chicken on Slim's plate. Mort, who had been listening to this exchange with some amusement, wondered what he was going to do about it.

"You didn't …!" Slim was understandably horrified.

"When did I have time?" Jess reminded him sarcastically. "And mind y' own damn business!"

Mort wondered if Jess was doing this deliberately, to distract Slim's attention even further from the uneaten meal. Sure enough, they might be glaring as each other, but Jess's fork jabbed quickly and with unerring accuracy into the contents of the other plate. He continued to chew with evident enjoyment.

"Running that escort was my business – and yours too. You were deputised just like me."

"Not just like you." Jess retorted, at the same time appropriating another chunk of chicken. "You just had to deal with Storner. I had to make sure neither you nor Storner nor the saddlebags were left alone with those two women and stop them gettin' in contact with Greerly or goin' off on their own. It was darn'd difficult to organise - y'know, like the old story about the fox, the goose and the bag of beans? Only thing is, I can't decide which you were – but you sure as hell weren't the fox!"

"No, there's only one of us sly enough for that," Slim told him, a very slight grin beginning to appear as he acknowledged the difficulties Jess had faced. "And another thing, how did you get in contact with your friend, Joe?"

"Second watch on the way," Jess admitted. "His place is actually only just over a couple of ridges from where we camped the first night."

"You left me when you were supposed to be on watch?"

"You're a big boy now. You don't need me holdin' your hand." Jess jerked back in his chair in anticipation of Slim's reaction, but all he got was: "And why the hell couldn't you just stick to Mort's original plan?"

"Because I didn't know if Mrs Brown - who, may I remind you, is the mastermind behind several of the biggest gangs in the territory – might've got hold of the details. That's why!"

By this time, Jess had pinched about half the chicken from Slim's plate and Slim had managed to eat no more than a couple of mouthfuls during the entire conversation. Mort grinned even more. He wondered when Slim was going to notice.

Jess purloined a potato and added smugly: "It worked, anyway! You ought t' be thankin' me, not chewin' me out."

This, Mort, reflected to himself, was a very appropriate choice of words – or would be when Slim noticed where his dinner had gone.

"Thanking you!" Slim's much tried patience was strained almost to breaking point. "Thank you? You did nothing but moan and complain and sulk –"

This was too much. Jess dropped his fork – a sure indication that he was really riled – and snapped: "I ain't never!" His air of outraged, injured virtue nearly had Mort choking with the effort of suppressing his laughter.

"Yes, you did, you scheming Rebel saddle-tramp! You sulked the whole way!"

"Just stand up and say that again, y' puritanical Yankee property owner!" Jess leapt to his feet, abandoning all interest in chicken or any other form of nourishment.

"Too right, I will!" Slim flung off the sling and sent his chair tumbling behind him.

"You're just sittin' up and beggin' for it, ain't y'!" Jess's response was not physically accurate but he had been spoiling for a fight right from the first moment of this escort duty. After all the scheming tricks, devious puzzles and confusing actions, Slim was perfectly willing to oblige him.

"That's enough, boys!" A bullet hit the as-yet-to-be-fully-consumed plate in front of Slim.

Freddie, the barman, had seen enough Sherman-Harper roughhouses with other opponents to know that one between the two of them was going to cause major destruction of property. He felt his rifle should intervene before things really got going. "Blood on the boards ain't good for business – and you two ain't made any contribution for the last lot o' damage y' caused in here!" He looked at the sheriff appealingly and added: "Get 'em outta here, Mort, afore I have t' do somethin' drastic!"

Mort jumped to his feet and seized the combatants by their collars: "Come on, boys. Don't outstay your welcome. Get down to the Livery and work it out of your systems. There's plenty of space down there!"

They were through the bat-wing doors and standing on the sidewalk before they really realized what was happening.

 **# # # # #**

Some time later, Slim was sitting on a convenient hay bale, while Jess re-bandaged his arm. The fight had not lasted long and had been more of a scuffle or scrap than an all-out battle. Each having an injured arm had seriously hampered their style and it was not long before the ridiculous nature of the situation struck them and they collapsed, as they so often had before, into chuckles and then hearty laughter.

"Sorry about this," Jess murmured, as he tightened the bandage. "Guess I failed to keep the fox from the goose in the end!"

Slim laughed. "I guess I'm lucky you aren't referring to me as a bag of beans! And incidentally …"

"Yeah?"

"First off, you owe me a good chicken dinner, so don't kid yourself I didn't notice! But second: why did we have to eat all that raw stuff? You don't seriously expect me to believe that Concord Brown is a vegetarian?"

"More like a man-eater!" Jess agreed. "Or at least, Unity is."

"You should know! Now, come on, give. What part of your devious plot were the fruit and veg?"

"Part of keepin' the fox from the goose," Jess grinned. "I caught Concord tryin' to dope the stew and realised she was likely to drug or even poison you, if she could. Just had to make sure y' didn't eat anythin' she could add somethin' to."

"And how did you convince her to bring supplies like that?"

Jess grinned even more. "Told her you were strictly religious – only ate what Genesis Chapter One said you could."

" 'The fruit of a tree yielding seed for meat'." Slim nodded in comprehension. "Did I call you devious?"

"Yeah. And connivin'. And unscrupulous. And –" Jess struggled for a bit and finished: "I forget the rest. But it ain't any way t' describe a friend you trust!" For once, he looked uncertain, insecure even, in the aftermath of this latest adventure.

"Oh, I trust you all right," Slim told him with an affectionate smile.

"You do? What, even when I was bein' – y'know – devious an' all that stuff?"

"Yeah. I could tell you were _really_ taking the job seriously."

"You could?"

"Yeah. For a start, you never did anything for money in your life and besides –"

"Too right. I got used t' it, workin' for you!" Jess ducked and caught the flying fist as Slim made a retaliatory swipe at him. They tussled amiably, but Slim soon stopped because he was laughing so much.

"Besides what?" Jess demanded suspiciously, as he recalled there was another reason Slim knew he had been acting out a part. "What's so darned funny?"

"Just that this escort duty's the first time ever I've known you willingly go twenty four hours without a square meal!"

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Thanks to everyone who has confirmed my feeling that long stories posted in chapters are better for the reader and that everyone likes a complete story, not having to wait for chapters - your views are taken to heart - will do! (This story is posted in separate chapters, but it would be helpful to know whether readers find it easier to read a story of this length in chapters or as a single post with the chapter divisions indicated in the text by their numbers.)

Just realised, reading this through, how much the Jess of this story is influenced by the ruthlessly focused Matt Martin ( _Incident at Phantom Hill_ \- if you haven't seen it, go see it! RF at his best!) and by a truly devious baddie played by RF in _Gatling Gun._

Somewhere out there is someone who knows everything there is to know about the horses used in Laramie (apologies, I can't find the website again!). I think I invented the black and Smoke, but am happy to be corrected.

Acknowledgement: _For all chapters: The great creative writing of the 'Laramie' series is respectfully acknowledged. My stories are purely for pleasure and are inspired by the talents of the original authors, producers and actors._


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